


Wily

by lcdsra



Series: LCDSRA's A-Z Soulmate Prompts [23]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lcdsra/pseuds/lcdsra
Summary: /ˈwīlē/adjective1. skilled at gaining an advantage, especially deceitfully.Or: Foot-in-the-door theory, as applied to a corrupt organization.
Relationships: None
Series: LCDSRA's A-Z Soulmate Prompts [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935553





	Wily

**Author's Note:**

> AU: Whatever your soulmate’s most passionate about is written on your skin.
> 
> Character(s): Fatma, Cress, Roksana, Chace, Verity  
> Relationship(s): None  
> Warning(s): Implied suicide, human experiment mention

The thing her soulmate was most passionate about was ‘studying people and their behavior’. The words felt like a slap in the face, as she held the gun up to her temple. Here, a desk worker, was responsible for the two people on the other side of the mirror.

She watched as the younger was given lethal doses of poison, only for her to fight it off. She watched as the other's soul mark was burned off, and she watched again and again them being told they were merely machines. Tools to be used and thrown away.

Maybe her soulmate would’ve liked to study her too.

: : :

“I think you’ll like the job we have for you.” Her interviewer, he said his name was Happy, had said to her.

His smile was charming and the words on his wrist were just as simple, alluring, attractive as he was. His soulmate was gentle and thoughtful, and Fatma had assumed, subconsciously, that he must be as well.

Fatma Parra, admittedly, was taken in by a good looking man who’s name was almost too perfect, like his office, his words, his smile. She wanted the job because he seemed to want her for the job.

That was her first mistake, accepting the simple offer of working a desk job and filing with a shady organization.

Her friend, Verity, had insisted that MOON was a corrupt organization, it was _bad_ but Happy wasn’t a bad person so surely he wouldn’t work for a bad organization?

Fatma was young and sheltered and too late she realized that _good_ and _bad_ were subjective. That good people could do bad things.

She accepted the job.

: : :

For about a year, Fatma was left to settle into her desk job. It was simple and easy, enough that she didn’t have to stress about it, but complex enough to stimulate her mind so time seemed to fly by.

In the morning, every weekday, she’d catch a bus to work and there would be a stack of files on her desk with a sticky note. She’d file the papers into sections based on what the sticky note said, then drop them off at a center desk.

Fatma would take a lunch break, and by the time she was done, there would be another pile to be sorted. Sometimes, to break up the monotony, Happy would drop by her desk to talk with her.

He was the one to tell her their boss, Crescent, wanted to talk to her.

“He wants to talk, with me? Alone?” She had asked.

Happy smiled disarmingly and said, “Why wouldn’t he want to?”

Crescent insisted Fatma call him Cress, and that she was invited to interact with the other branches of their organization. He told her to expect to run documents back and forth.

A strange request, but every time she did that, she’d get a bonus, so she agreed.

She wondered what her soulmate words were.

: : :

Fatma began running papers down to different sections of the building. Harmless enough, she was still mainly a desk jockey but getting up sometimes was good. Sometimes they were articles about whatever that someone was researching, or an interesting medical journal reference that a doctor probably requested.

The researchers were always trying to loop her into their theoretical conversations, and the medical teams sometimes had time to say hello before enthusiastically showing off whatever was delivered.

Sometimes the topics made her want to flinch back, or leave immediately. One article that she delivered to the medical staff was the effect of poisons on the human body and she had read the first few sentences and immediately had to look away.

One day, a medical worker asked her how her day was going. A few days later, a researcher had joked with her. A sudden sense of belonging washed through her, and though she was still supposed to be working at a desk, she spent more and more time down in either of the departments.

Roksana Huerta was the head researcher and scientist and she loathed nicknames. The braver people below her privately called her names like Roxy and Annie, and Fatma suspected Roksana knew about them but let them get away with it.

Chace Tomlinson was the head of the medical department. He was kind, if a little distant. Sometimes he had time to answer her questions or accept the articles that his employees requested.

She spent so much time in either of their labs, and occasionally with them both, they began to feel like a family she never had. When Cress requested they all work together, in differing roles, of course, she accepted immediately. This was her family, they embraced her shaky, nervous self and let her live like them.

: : :

Then, one day, Cress called her into his office again and asked for something more. Roksana and Chace were working on an important project that only trusted people could know about. Fatma’s job was to make sure the files got to Cress safely and in an organized manner.

Part of her knew that Cress could do all the filing on his own, but this assignment was a statement of trust.

She agreed. It was easy enough, and flattering.

Roksana and Chace weren’t allowed to tell her the details of their work, but she saw it, somewhat. It involved tests. Many tests. The subject wasn’t named, not in a way she understood. The phrasing was very specific ( _it_ , only it).

It was nice. She felt so connected to the other adults and felt like she was actually important.

But one day, the papers to be filed abruptly stopped and Chace buried himself in work and Roksana pulled away from everyone.

Whatever happened, it wasn’t good. Eventually, Cress told her to talk to them, separately or together. He said she was allowed to ask anything, even things deemed classified.

She did. Fatma first talked to Chace, because Roksana had taken a few days off before she could get to her.

Chace told her that their project was a failure, and it upset him to fail.

Roksana, when she came back, elaborated. Someone they were working with died under their care and they both messed up and it was a massive failure for both.

She asked what they did. Sometimes she wished she hadn’t. Roksana was toying with the idea of poison immunity and Chace was supposed to keep their person alive (their _test subject_ ) and they failed because the human body wasn’t supposed to be able to consume poison and survive.

After, Fatma took several days off, for the first time since she started working for MOON. She came back and she went back to working at her desk for a month before she worked up the courage to talk to them again.

She liked them, they were kind and funny people but they also _killed_ someone.

Still. Cress asked her to work with them again, and that time she’d have a more hands on role. The subject’s name was Saga and that time she was in the room sometimes, when Roksana and Chace recorded audio logs.

About two years later, someone else who went by Nina was brought in. She, well, it, lost its name immediately and became known as Project Dust, and Saga became known as Project Shard.

She was responsible for the general care of both projects, and for awhile, it was _fine_.

Ignoring the screams of both projects, it was fine.

: : :

It was a random day that Verity called her up and asked to meet for coffee.

“I’m worried about you.” Verity said the moment they met. “About who you work for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know what MOON is known for?”

She didn’t. Not really. “No, why?”

“Human experiments, Fatma.” Verity stressed. “Please tell me you’ve not been involved with that.”

“Of course not!”

“Good.” Verity nodded. “But it might not stay that way for long.”

“I can’t just quit!” Fatma protested. “I’m not just sitting on a trust fund of millions of dollars.”

Verity just stared at her. “Fatma, I-“

“No, you don’t understand. I’m just a desk worker.”

“Who watched a little girl be forced to take poison?” Fatma didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. Because when did Fatma, the desk jockey, someone who just sorted files, become an accomplice to human experiments? “How old did you say she was?”

“She turned 14 in September.” She replied, quietly. The voices of Roksana and Chace were screaming at her, telling her the girl agreed and consented to everything that happened to her.

It was her choice but no no children couldn’t say yes to things like that what were they thinking?

What was she thinking?

“Fatma?” Verity asked, quietly.

She blinked. “I need to go.”

She left.

Verity did not follow her. But. She felt her eyes on her, felt the disgust or the pity or something that Fatma didn’t have time to dissect and understand.

Fatma Parra was not hired to overlook clear abuses of other people. She was hired to be a desk worker. The job was nearby and paid surprisingly well and she really needed the job so she didn’t even think twice to apply, then later, accept.

But now she was compliant in the torture of two human beings.

How did it get so far?

**Author's Note:**

> Step one, you say we need to talk  
> He walks, you say sit down, it's just a talk  
> He smiles politely back at you  
> You stare politely right on through  
> Some sort of window to your right  
> As he goes left, and you stay right  
> Between the lines of fear and blame  
> You begin to wonder why you came
> 
> \- How to Save a Life by The Fray


End file.
